Nameless Guest
by 6s-and-7s
Summary: Mrs. Wibbsey is quite happy with her life, thank you very much. Her days of gallivanting about space and time are well and truly over. The Doctor has left her behind, and this strange blonde woman is no kind of substitute...


It was a pretty dry job, if I'm to be honest with myself. Day in and day out, taking care of a cottage that held only me, myself, and I. Mondays I dust all the shelves. Tuesdays, I sweep the floors. Wednesdays are my shopping days. Thursday is spent scrubbing the fixtures, Friday caring for the yard, and Saturday taking care of whatever odd jobs needed doing. Sunday, of course, is my day of rest; I'll spend the morning in church, and the afternoons looking through whatever book comes to hand, or listening to the radio if I feel so inclined.

The next day, Monday rolled around again, and it's time for me to start all over.

Not that I mind, of course! Far from it. After the hustle and lunacy that got me into this situation, I quite like the quiet and the order of a good, solid schedule. It does get a bit lonely of an evening, though. Even after all these years, there was no one in town that I know well enough to invite for dinner. Not with all the Doctor's old knick-knacks gathering dust on the shelves. Who knows what planet he picked them up on? Mr. Yates comes down now and again for supper and a nice chat, but those visits have always been few and far between.

Loath though I am to admit it, I actually quite missed the Doctor. He was an insufferable, loud, egotistical buffoon, but he was my friend, as well. My best friend, really, not that I'd ever tell him that. His head would swell up like a hot-air balloon.

I hadn't seen him in five years. Every year, around Christmas, I'd set out an extra place for him, but he never showed.

Well, that was life, of course. That was the Doctor, come to that. Unpredictable, moving in fits and starts. If I'd never seen him again, I wouldn't have been a bit surprised. Upset, perhaps, but not surprised. I'd have carried on like that until the day I'd died, and I'd think my life well-spent. After all, there's not many in Hexford that can claim to have saved the world no fewer than three times.

But that wasn't to be, of course.

I knew there was something amiss as soon as I heard the bell. It was much too early for the evening post. I suspected it was Deirdre's sister, the novelist. I thought I'd seen the last of her after that business with the Skishtari, but unfortunately, it wasn't to be.

I shoved open the door and found myself face to face with a complete stranger. "Yes?" I said. "Who are you?"

"Hello, Wibbsey," she said. "It's been awhile."

I frowned at her. "I beg your pardon? Have we met?"

She smiled at that. "You're doing the thing again, with your forehead. Whenever you got cross, it always crinkled just like that."

I scowled at her for a moment. "You're avoiding the question, madam."

"Oh, Wibbs, come off it! I know I've got a new face an' all, but who else ever turns up at Nest Cottage unannounced? I'd have used my key-" she held up a keyring on a leather strap, one where car keys, key cards, old iron door keys, and more exotic things beside all jostled against one another. "Only, I thought I should probably give you the heads-up. What with the new face and that."

It couldn't be. There was no possible way.

"Say it," I told her.

She beamed up at me. "Mrs. Wibbsey. I. Am. The Doctor."

I stared at her for a long moment. Then I shut the door in her face.

* * *

I had about three minutes to myself before she let herself in. I sat in the kitchen for perhaps ten minutes more after that. Eventually, I stood up and walked into the sitting room. As I'd suspected - as I'd known she would do - she was sitting in his chair. It was almost comical, seeing a little chit like her sitting in the Doctor's chair. She looked like a child in her rainbow-striped shirt and ridiculous pants. That was one point in her support, I suppose. No one but the Doctor would ever think of wearing an outfit like that.

She'd made herself quite at home there. Her coat as hung neatly on the hook, and her boots lay in the corner where she'd apparently flung them. She'd also helped herself to the Doctor's books, poring over some thick leatherbound journal.

She shut it when I walked in, though, and smiled at me, though not quite as brightly as the first time. Good.

"Hello again, Wibbs," she said.

"Miss."

"Would you have a seat, so I can explain?"

I considered just throwing her out. But as I said, I led a rather lonely life. Anyway, if she'd done something with the Doctor - and if she had his keys, I could only guess - I ought to find out all I could about it. So I sat.

She studied me intently for several seconds. "You don't believe I'm the Doctor. Why?"

"You don't look like him."

"So? You saw my second incarnation."

"I saw a clone ."

"Still. You know I can change my appearance totally. Why is this so hard to swallow?"

She cocked her head meditatively. "Is it 'cause I'm a woman, this time? I've had some pretty tricky situations because of that."

"No, not that. Not really. It's just-"

My mouth kept working after that, like I was chewing gum. The words, though, seemed to have dried up.

She waited patiently. "You're too- You just- If you're the Doctor, where's the TARDIS?"

"Out in front of the churchyard. My friends are all off at the pub, but if you're willing to come with me, I can show you."

"Your friends?"

"Companions. Like you and Mike. My current fellow travelers."

"Kidnap them too, did you?"

She winced. Struck a nerve, there. " Accidentally ," she said. "But, yes."

"Our replacements, then?"

Now the woman looked flat-out horrified. "Replacements? Of course not! I'd never dream of replacing you, or any of my other friends."

I said nothing.

She sighed. "Look. What do you want from me to prove that I'm really the Doctor? Here! Here, sonic screwdriver." She pulled a metal wand out of her pocket and waved it around. It buzzed and glowed yellow.

I looked away.

"Memories. I can tell you all about the time we spent together. Remember New York, hey? With the superhero? I met another superhero in New York, actually, named the Ghost. Or, well, his real name was Grant. But you remember how the demon lured us there with that comic book?"

I said nothing.

"The future, then. I could tell you things about this planet that nobody else could know. Like, er, what year is it? 2014? Ooh, heck. You'll probably want to avoid the graveyard for a bit…"

"That already happened," I told her.

"Oh, right. So this is 2015, then? Er, bit of a slow year for invasions. Come September, all the planes will freeze in the air for an hour or so."

I looked up at the ceiling.

The woman was silent for a long time. "I'm sorry, Fenella."

"You slipped up," I said. "The Doctor never called me by my Christian name."

"And that's part of what I'm sorry for."

I said nothing.

"Fenella, I'm not sorry that I took you out of Cromer. I'm a bit sorry about burning down the Cabinet of Curiosities. I'm quite sorry that I had to hypnotize you, even if I only did it to stop the Hornets from controlling you. But more than that, I'm sorry that I didn't show you everything the universe had to offer. I'm sorry that I left you here alone for so long, time and time again. I'm sorry I hardly ever asked about how you felt about it all."

I looked at her, and she met my eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better friend," she said quietly.

I said nothing. She slumped down, all trace of sunshine gone. "Alright, then," she said, rising to go. "S'pose you'll want me out of your hair, then."

"Wait."

She stopped, facing away from me. "I forgive you- Doctor."

I couldn't see her face just then, but I could feel the light in her smile. "Oh, don't go getting a swelled head!"

She turned back to face me, grinning like a loon. "Swelled head? Me? Wouldn't dream of it."

I huffed. "You mentioned friends. I suppose you'll be wanting me to make up the guest rooms, next?"

"That'd be ideal, yeah. The readings the TARDIS is giving me… well, I think I'll be in town for a good while."

My heart fell at that. Of course she hadn't just come by to see me. The Doctor never did. Something of that must have shown on my face, because she leaned over and squeezed my shoulder. "And there's no one I'd sooner have at my side than my trusty Wibbsey," she said warmly.

"I thought you were calling me Fenella, now?"

"Whichever you think is better! C'mon, Wibbs, daylight's wasting! We can meet up with my fam at the pub, see what they've found out! Oh, you're gonna love them…"

I looked back into the house, thinking about all I had yet to do that day. Then, I raised two fingers at my schedule and hurried out after the Doctor, my heart feeling lighter than it had in years.


End file.
